Untitled
by raindaance
Summary: “It’s complicated!” She shouted, screaming at him, all of the feelings from the past four years bubbling up in her head.  Complication.  How funny…her world had once been so simple.  She  had known where she was going, who she wanted to be, hell, who she


Okay, so this is the second Rory/Jess fic that I have started, but hopefully I'll be able to continue this one for more than a chapter. Um...I hope you like it?

Disclaimer: though this is totally pointless, because everyone reading this knows that I do NOT own Gilmore Girls, I do not own Gilmore Girls.

'Kay, enjoy:-)

* * *

"It's complicated!" She shouted, screaming at him, all of the feelings from the past four years bubbling up in her head. Complication. How funny…her world had once been so simple. She had known where she was going, who she wanted to be, hell, who she was. Back then everything had been black and white instead of…well…gray wasn't what she called it…it's more of a rainbow, an array of colors, an array of feelings. Yes, four years ago her life had been black and white, but he had shown her a lot, taught her a lot. She never had understood why Luke had asked her to tutor him. He had shown her what it felt like to question, to understand. He had been her equal in ways one could never before have dreamt of. He had taught her what it felt like to love, to hate, to win, to lose, to live. He had taught her all that, and yet she was not sure weather she thanked or hated him for it.

"It's not! It's not complicated!" She was almost shocked, almost amused my his answer, before she remembered that he wasn't talking about them, he was talking about the mess she was making of her life. Her life was messed up, but it was painfully simple. Mom. Yale. Jerk Boyfriend. DAR. No matter how screwed up things were, she knew that complicated could not even come close to describing them. She knew that she had made a HUGE mistake. _Mistakes _she amended when she felt the recognition of his eyes, his hair, his crooked mouth. She briefly wondered how familiar his kiss would feel before strictly dutiful thoughts of Logan the Jerk (as she had renamed him) came to her mind.

She listened numbly as he gracefully, or as gracefully as he could manage at that point, bowed out of the situation. She watched him say goodbye, leave walk away, out of her life. _For good?_ she almost wondered. She laughed bitterly. At least he had said goodbye this time.

"Leaving", she whispered, "the one thing I could always count on him to do."

_If he's the one walking away,_ the voice in her head quipped, _then why do you feel like you're the one running?_

She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts; stop the tears. She turned back to the pub. _On to round two_ she thought, sighing out loud.

* * *

As Logan went drunkenly on about the folk singer and some nonsense, she felt her anger more than she knew it was there. Finally some of his words got through, made sense, words she'd definitely heard before.

"He's gone?" Gone. Of course **he** was gone. Wasn't he always?

"Yes. He's gone." She replied with venom in her voice.

"Writers. They're so sensitive." She literally felt her blood pulsing harder in her veins, she was so angry.

"You were a jerk, Logan!"

"I was just challenging him, geez. Hey, if Hemingway could take it, so could he. Hey, if he wanted to, he could have taken a pop at me. Pugnacity. It's a vital component of literary life. Again, consult your Hemingway. Come on. Do not let this guy get to you." Hemingway—**he** had always loved Hemigway, and little though _she_ cared for Hemingway, she could not bear to hear Logan disparage yet another thing that **he** cared about.

"You're getting to me!"

"Me?"

"Yes! You were an ass!"

"Look, I'm sorry I came back early, I really messed things up here."

"Jess wrote a book! He wrote a book, and you mocked him."

"I did not mock him."

"He's doing something!" _**He's**__ doing something, and __**I'm**__ not._

"Good, fine, he's doing something. Everybody in the world is doing something. More power to him." _If you only knew just how much he's doing, what his doing means. To him. To me. If you only knew how much he's __**done**__. For me. For himself._

"I'm not! I mean, what am I doing? I'm living with my grandparents."

"That's temporary. Have a drink."

"Temporary can turn into forever."

"You're not living with the Gilmore's forever."

"I'm palling with my grandmother; I'm being waited on by a maid. I come home and my shoes are magically shined, my clothes are magically clean, ironed and laid out. My bed is magically turned down. I'm in the DAR? I'm going to meetings and teas and cocktail parties?" _Her life sounded ridiculous. Her life WAS ridiculous._

"Again, temporary. Have a drink." _Screw drinking!_

"I'm wasting my time partying and drinking, just hanging out, doing nothing!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't pull me into this."

"I didn't say anything about you."

"Yes you did. Don't make me feel guilty for your drinking and partying. That's your choice. I'm not forcing you, when I ask you out, you can say no!"

"It's all we do." _She hadn't been blaming him, but he was to blame._

"It's not all we do."

"It's all you do."

"Well, that's my prerogative. You know? You're damn straight, I'm going to party. I'm going to do it while I have the chance because come June, my life is over!"

"Oh, yes, your horrible life, let's hear about it!"

"Got a week?"

"You have every door open to you! You have opportunities that anyone would kill for, including me!"

"No one's stopping you from making whatever you want happen! Go into journalism! Go into politics! Be a doctor, be a clown! Do whatever you want!"

"It's not as easy when it's not handed to you."

"Really. It's all so easy for me? I don't want that life! It's forced on me! You talk about all these doors being open? All I see is one door, and I'm being pushed through it! I have no choice! You try living without options."

"How hard are you fighting it?" _How hard do any of us fight it? How hard did I fight it? _His too familiar face comes into her mind. _How hard did I fight it?_

"I didn't tell you to quit Yale! You did that! I gave you one month, you went beyond the month and it had nothing to do with me! It was all you! Now, you want to change, change it. But don't blame me, don't you dare blame me! You know what, why don't you go off with John, Jack, whatever his name is!"

"Oh, I'm not going off with Jess!" _He wouldn't want me. He would have once. He doesn't now._

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Let's go. I want to go. I don't want to be here."

"I don't want to go."

"Well, I drove you here and I want to go!"

"I don't want to go!"

"Fine. That'll cover the bill. Have fun finding a way home from this hell hole." With that Logan stormed out of the pub, leaving her with just enough money to pay the bill and with no means of transporting herself back to her grandparents house.

She pulled out her cellphone and dialed the number that he had given her just a day ago.

_Please pick up, please pick up _she begged him with her mind as the phone rang.

"Rory?" his soft, worried voice answered the phone.

"Jess. Will you come get me? Please?"

* * *

Review? More to come within the next few days, I hope. 


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